


it can happen to anyone

by SherlockedWitch



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Brian May is a Good Boyfriend, Crying, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Omorashi, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockedWitch/pseuds/SherlockedWitch
Summary: He'd wet the bed. Like a fucking child. He'd wetBrian'sbed.What the hell had caused this? Maybe it was the alcohol he’d drank that evening? The nightmare? Stress? Or, hell, maybe it was a combination of all three? Freddie didn’t know, but what he did know was that this shouldnotbe happening to him.





	it can happen to anyone

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to hell for this (what's new?), but I really just wanted to write Freddie wetting the bed and Brian comforting him. 
> 
> Also, this is my first Queen fic, so I'm still working on getting a good grasp on writing Freddie and Brian. I hope I've done at least half-way decent. 
> 
> Title is from 'it's a hard life' because is this really even a Queen fic if I don't use Queen lyrics for the title? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Freddie lives for the nights where he gets to share a bed with Brian. While not exactly a rare occurrence, it’s not an all the time thing, either. They still live in different flats, and they don’t always share a bed on tour. The amount of times Freddie falls asleep at Brian’s place, or vice versa, is becoming more frequent, though, and neither of them mind a bit. 

 

On this night in particular, Freddie had spent the evening at Brian’s with the intention of staying over. They’d finally gone to bed around midnight, knowing they were due at the studio in the morning to record. They had fallen asleep snuggled up to one another, but shifted at some point, both unconsciously rolling away to their respective sides of the bed instead of cuddling together in the middle.

 

They’re both sleeping deeply until Freddie jolts awake, a small gasp falling from his lips as his eyes fly open. 

 

He’d had a nightmare. A rather stupid nightmare, really, but he’d awoken with his heart pounding all the same. Freddie lays there trying to calm down, steading his breathing, staring at the ceiling that he can just barely see with the help of the moonlight drifting through the curtains. A few moments later, his heart rate starts to slow. He moves to turn onto his side—and then abruptly stops.

 

_ What the fuck? _ Freddie thinks. He...feels something. Or thinks he does, anyway. Frowning, he glances over at Brian, who is (thankfully) still dead to the world. Slowly putting a hand under the blanket, he silently prays that he’s wrong about what he’s feeling.

 

As his hand makes contact with the soaking wet sheet surrounding his body, though, Freddie knows that he’s right. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more upset to be right about something. 

 

No. 

 

_ No no no no no.  _

 

He’d wet the bed. Like a fucking child. He’d wet  _ Brian’s  _ bed. 

 

What the hell had caused this? Maybe it was the alcohol he’d drank that evening? The nightmare? Stress? Or, hell, maybe it was a combination of all three? Freddie didn’t know, but what he  _ did _ know was that this should  _ not  _ be happening to him.

 

Shit. What was he going to do? He wants nothing more than to keep this a secret from Brian, but that seems impossible. There’s no way Freddie can clean this up without Brian knowing. Newly panicked, his heart is hammering again. God, he doesn’t want to wake Brian up. A quick glance at the alarm clock tells him it’s just after three in the morning. He doesn’t know how the blissfully unaware guitarist sleeping next to him will react to this. Freddie’s racing mind is already imagining reactions of disgust, laughter, anger, and everything in between. Always one for dramatics, he can already perfectly picture Brian tossing him out of the flat, even if his heart is trying to whisper to him that his boyfriend would never do that. 

 

Maybe he can slip out of bed silently, at least go and get  _ himself  _ cleaned up before figuring out what to do next? Yes, that sounds like a good plan, Freddie thinks. 

 

He gingerly starts to sit up, grimacing in discomfort. He can feel his cold, urine-soaked sweatpants clinging to his legs as he moves, and he can’t remember the last time something has made him feel this ashamed. Freddie moves slowly, glancing over at Brian as he sits up. Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up. He inches towards the edge of the bed now, but just as he thinks he might be able to make a clean getaway, the bed creaks under the shift in his weight. Fuck. Freddie immediately looks at Brian, and his stomach drops as he watches him move a bit, turning towards Freddie and blearily opening his eyes. Damn him for being a light sleeper. 

 

The first thing Brian sees when he wakes up is Freddie’s wide eyes staring straight back at him. Which he had, understandably, not been expecting. He’s barely awake, but he frowns. 

 

“Fred? What are you doing?” Brian mumbles, voice rough with sleep. He watches as his boyfriend drops eye contact, grabbing onto the blanket and fiddling with it, almost as if he’s trying to cover more of himself with it despite that fact that he’s sitting up instead of laying down. 

 

“Nothing, sorry—sorry for waking you, love. Go back to sleep,” Freddie fumbles, voice quiet and tinged with the anxiety he’s trying so hard to hide. Part of the reason he’s now staring down at his blanket covered lap is to avoid Brian seeing the tears of embarrassment that have started to gather in his eyes. 

 

Now worried, Brian wakes up a bit more. Freddie doesn’t sound so good. 

 

“Is something wrong?” Brian asks, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up so he can get a better look at Freddie. Maybe he’s feeling ill or something? Maybe he had a nightmare?

 

Freddie hesitates. He wants to lie. He knows he has to tell Brian, but god, he doesn’t know how to. He can feel his face heating up, and he’s sure if the room wasn’t so dimly lit that the other man would have already noticed his flushed complexion. 

 

“Freddie, talk to me,” Brian urges softly after he receives no answer, becoming increasingly concerned. 

 

“It—I’m okay, I just, um. I really,  _ really  _ didn’t meant to, I swear, I just—I don’t know why I…” Freddie speaks panickedly and then trails off, taking a shaky breath. He knows he’s probably just confusing Brian even more by not giving him a direct answer, but he’s not sure he can actually say what he did out loud without completely bursting into tears. 

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, whatever it is,” Brian reassures him, but he’s still royally confused. What could Freddie have done that had him this upset? Wanting to provide him more comfort, Brian goes to move closer to Freddie, but as he sits his hand down on the sheet near his boyfriend, he feels it. The sheet is wet. Why is the sheet wet around Freddie? Oh.  _ Oh.  _

 

As Brian abruptly stops moving towards him, Freddie has to hold back a sob. There’s no way he hasn’t felt it by now. 

 

“I’m so sorry,” Freddie chokes out, refusing to look up at Brian. 

 

“Freddie, it’s alright. It’s no big deal,” Brian has to quickly push down his shock in favor of being comforting. “We can get this cleaned up, and it’ll be like it never happened, yeah?” 

 

Freddie merely sniffles quietly in response, ducking his head to wipe away the few tears that had now managed to fall. 

 

Heart aching with sympathy, Brian lightly rests his hand on Freddie’s shoulder, rubbing it to try and calm him. “Do you want to go take a shower?” 

 

Freddie nods after a moment. While still absolutely mortified, he is starting to recognize that Brian doesn’t sound mad at him, which he’s more than grateful for. 

 

“Okay,” Brian keeps his tone soft, “I’ll find some clothes for you to borrow and bring them to you, alright?” 

 

“Thanks...I’m sorry,” Freddie mumbles yet again.

 

“Hey, look at me, love.” Brian prompts.

 

Freddie hesitates before complying, raising his tear-filled eyes slowly to meet Brian’s. 

 

Brian slowly rubs his hand soothingly up and down Freddie’s arm as he speaks. “You have absolutely  _ nothing  _ to be sorry for. This wasn’t your fault. Okay?” 

 

Despite still feeling a bit guilty, Freddie does feel more comforted now because of Brian’s words, so he nods softly. 

 

“Good,” Brian smiles slightly. He knows Freddie is still embarrassed, and he knows he can’t make that magically disappear, but he  _ does  _ want him to understand that he’s not being judged or blamed for this.

 

“I’m gonna...go shower now,” Freddie murmurs quietly, moving to get out of bed after Brian lets go of him. He grimaces in response to how uncomfortable and wet he feels, and he hurries out of the room rather quickly to avoid Brian looking at his soaked pants. 

 

Brian makes a point not to watch Freddie as his boyfriend all but scurries away. Once he’s gone, though, Brian gets out of bed and pulls back the blankets, looking at the sizable wet spot on the sheets that he can make out even in the dim lighting. Hopefully it hasn’t gone through to the mattress, but he’s honestly not  _ super  _ worried about it.

 

Brian fumbles for the lamp, turning it on so he doesn’t have to both hunt for clothes for Freddie and strip the bed in the dark. He heads to his dresser to look for clothes Freddie can borrow. 

 

—

 

Meanwhile in the bathroom, Freddie turns on the shower before carefully stripping out of his soiled clothing. Once the water is hot enough, he steps inside. He’s incredibly thankful for how nice Brian is being about this, but he still sort of feels like boiling himself alive. He’s not sure the embarrassment he’s feeling will ever fade (even though, logically, he knows it has to). 

 

Freddie lets himself cry silently for a couple of minutes, tears mixing with the water as they run down his face. He starts to calm down soon, though, and focuses on washing off. Brian wasn’t mad. Brian wasn’t going to make him go back to his own place. Brian hadn’t laughed. 

 

Brian is beautifully kind and loving, and Freddie can’t believe how lucky he is to have him. 

 

It’s these thoughts that help him calm down, to stop crying. The shame is still there, but it’s lessened some. 

 

A few minutes later, there’s a light knock on the bathroom door. 

 

“Can I come in for a second? I have some clothes for you,” Brian says.

 

“Yes.” Freddie grants permission from behind the shower curtain. A moment later, he hears the door open as Brian walks inside. He considers peeking out around the curtain, but residual embarrassment makes him decide against it. He’d rather wait the few extra minutes before having to look Brian in the eyes again. 

 

Once inside the bathroom, Brian places the bundle of clothes he’s gathered onto the counter. He spots the pile of Freddie’s discarded clothes on the floor, and carefully scoops them up as he leaves so he can throw them in the wash. He heads down the hall and tosses the clothes in the washer first thing, but doesn’t start it yet, as he still has to grab the sheets from the bed. 

 

A few minutes later, Brian’s managed to strip everything off of the bed and start the washer. Thankfully, the mattress seems relatively unscathed. He grabs a spare set of sheets from the linen closet in the hall, and he’s in the process of remaking the bed when a freshly-showered Freddie appears in the doorway. 

 

“I, um. I could have done that, darling,” Freddie says sheepishly, feeling bad that Brian had just cleaned  _ his  _ mess all on his own. 

 

“Yeah, but I don’t mind doing it,” Brian responds with a reassuring tone, glancing over at Freddie with a small smile. He’s glad to see that he’s not crying anymore, but he can tell he’s still a bit nervous. He also notes that the pajama pants hanging off his hips are a bit too long for sure, seeing as they belong to Brian, but he’s skinny enough that they mostly fit otherwise.

 

Freddie steps further into the room, sighing quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs. 

 

“Likewise.” Brian smiles again, this time to himself as he finishes getting the blankets situated. He looks up to see that Freddie is much closer to him now, and he steps toward him before drawing him into a hug. 

 

Brian wraps his arms around him gently, holding him comfortingly. Freddie practically melts into the embrace, gripping onto him lightly and resting his head on Brian’s chest. Brian gently kisses the top of his head, wet hair and all. They stay like that for a minute before Freddie (slightly reluctantly) pulls away. 

 

“Do you want to try and get some more sleep? We’ve still got a couple of hours before we need to be up,” Brian says.

 

“Sure,” Freddie nods, not exactly keen on going back to sleep, but he’s exhausted. Plus, he knows that they’ll both be absolutely dead in the studio tomorrow (well, technically  _ today _ ) if they don’t get some more rest. 

 

Brian knows he could have offered to let Freddie talk about his accident, but Brian also knows his boyfriend well enough to know that he would have instantly declined that offer. Additionally, he knows how desperately they need more sleep, so he’s glad he’s agreed to lay back down. Brian climbs into the newly made bed as Freddie walks around to the other side and does the same thing. Once he’s in, Brian faces him and opens his arms a bit. He only has to wait a moment before Freddie moves closer and snuggles up against him. 

 

“Love you, Bri.” Freddie mumbles softly into Brian’s chest. 

 

“I love you too, Fred.” Brian murmurs easily in response, closing his eyes. 

 

They both soon fall back asleep, and the rest of the night is welcomingly peaceful.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated if you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!


End file.
